


Written in Ink

by Readerofmuch



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, Soulmate AU, soulmate identifying marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2018-12-24 05:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readerofmuch/pseuds/Readerofmuch
Summary: Baze Malbus does not know much about soulmates. He had one. Now, he's not so sure.





	1. Chapter 1

It starts when Baze is young and still new to the temple. The characters on his wrist are delicate and nearly hidden when he carries himself normally. He hasn’t quite learned to read yet though, no matter how hard he tries. He is older than the other learners, and it frustrates him. Later in the day, when they are supposed to dedicate themselves to silent meditations, he asks the older brother in charge of his small group what it says. In truth, the boy has maybe a cycle on Baze but Qiqi has spent his life at the temple.

“Hmmm,” says Qiqi, but he does not say anything else for a long moment. “Little Brother, now is the time for prayer, but I’ll be washing the temple this evening. Find me there.”

Baze is bursting with more questions but the elder walking his rounds is looking at him in a way that tells him very clearly that he should return to his contemplations. The time until the evening passes excruciatingly slowly and even dinner (usually his favourite part of the day) is an ordeal. He’s large for his age and alone most of the time anyways. No one notices his anxiety.

Finally night falls. Baze usually has lessons in the evenings to catch up to the other children, but Elder Zhong is ill again and he has been sent to help with the chores. Before long he and Qiqi are sharing a bucket as they wash down the cold stone floor. More novitates scrub the statues of the enlightened or wash down the altar at the front reverently. It is clear how much the novitates care for the temple even as quiet conversations and laughter fill the air

“So Little Brother, let me tell you about your strange markings.”

Baze nods eagerly.

“How much do you know about soulmates?”

Baze shrugs. 

“I know they exist. There used to be a girl in my camp who’d draw on her arm with anything she could find in hopes that she would someday get a response.”

Qiqi raises his eyebrows in interest. 

“And did she?”

Baze can only shrug again. 

“She disappeared.”

“Oh.”

Baze doesn’t reply. He’s already said more today than he has in weeks and he can feel himself shutting down. They spend a few seconds scrubbing the floor in silence. 

“Well,” says Qiqi after an awkwardly long time, “Yours has written to you.”

“I know that much,” says Baze. “What does it say?”

Qiqi lights up. He’s known Baze since he had first arrived at the small temple and when the boy shuts down he means business. When he looks over Baze is scowling at him. Qiqi takes a second to school his features back to rigid discipline. 

“This character is pretty simple actually. It means ‘Hello’. Do you want to write back?”

Baze shakes his head, tight lipped. It’s his soulmate. He will write them himself. Qiqi does not speak to the angry youth again and they scrub the floors in silence. 

Over the next week his instructors are baffled. The sullen boy who had barely paid attention in private lessons is suddenly their most attentive student. He learns in leaps and bounds, borrowing first the junior primer and then slowly more advanced reading to pour over in whatever spare time he has. The ink is a little harder, but it is not long until he has the chance to copy the delicately inked characters in his own hand. When he is done he scowls at them. His hands are large and clumsy, nothing like the delicate, almost girlish writing above his. 

Could his soulmate be a girl? Baze spends a long time imagining them. He is a large boy, so he spends plenty of time hauling stone away from the roads or carrying jugs of water balanced on poles over his shoulders. Most of the time he is alone and he spends all of it thinking about who they could be. He almost doesn’t notice the next message. It comes a few weeks later in cramped writing on his bicep, looking like it was written on a far narrower arm. It’s just as delicate as the first and just as hard to read. It takes him three days to find enough time alone and enough patience to decipher the cramped characters. 

_ Are you my soulmate? _

The message goes unanswered, because how can he? Does he say yes and leave the conversation trailing in the dirt? Does he joke and risk a misunderstanding? It’s finally Qiqi who spurs him to action, asking question after question. Finally, Baze decides what to say.

_ Are you mine? _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change is slow to come in the temple, but come it must. Baze moves on, Qiqi builds connections and soulmates are strengthened.

The instructor at the front of the room is droning on about the first duan, attempted by most at around this age. Qiqi looks like he’s going to explode with joy and he keeps staring at an acolyte Baze does not know like they’re the centre of the universe. 

 

Baze nudges him sharply when the teacher glaces their way. 

 

“Huh?” says Qiqi.

 

“Qiqi, the teacher is looking at you,” murmurs Baze. “Put your eyes back in your head.”

 

Qiqi nods but his gaze is already drifting. Baze sighs and shakes his head. The Master teaching the class clears their throat.

 

“Little Brother Malbus, do you have something you wish to share with the class?”

 

Baze ducks his head in shame and shakes his head. 

 

“No, Master Innay.”

 

Qiqi shoots him an apologetic glance. Master Innay shakes their head and continues to teach. After a few more minutes of whispers chasing each other around the room they finally give in. 

 

“Alright everyone, please write out a half page explanation of the first duan. Yes, it will be graded, no I do not accept late work, good luck. I will be next door.”

 

As soon as they leave the room breaks out into barely constrained chaos. Baze moves to dip his brush but Qiqi turns towards him instead, still wearing that silly grin. 

 

“Little Brother, you won’t believe this.”

 

“What is it?” asks Baze more to satisfy Qiqi than any curiosity he may harbour. Qiqi looks around and then, very deliberately picks up the brush in front of him. He dips it in the ink in front of him and then traces it lightly against his own arm.

 

“What are you-?” starts Baze, but Qiqi is already pointing across the way at the boy he’d been staring at. The faint black line is echoed on the boy’s green skin. 

 

Baze breaks out into a wide grin despite himself. 

 

“Congratulations Qiqi,” he says warmly. “Does he know?”

 

Qiqi nods. “It started not long after you got your first message. I had been trying for months but I hadn’t heard anything. After you got yours, well-” he lowers his head bashfully, blushing, “-I had to try. It turns out, he didn’t speak Jedhan until he was almost 10 standard cycles old! His planet didn’t even have ink.”

 

Baze smiles again,  though it feels a little bittersweet. 

 

“What’s his name?”

 

“His name is Lersen, Lersen Secura.”

 

Qiqi goes on about his soulmate and Baze nods. He’s listening, but he’s worried too. Qiqi is one of his only friends here and they eat most meals together in the imposed silence of the dining hall. What if he wants to sit with his soulmate now? What if he doesn’t want to train with Baze anymore? They’re petty, shallow thoughts and he tries to cast them aside but they must show on his face because Qiqi stops speaking suddenly. 

 

“Baze?”

 

“I’m fine,” he promises. “I’m happy for you.”

 

Qiqi shakes his head. 

 

“I was asking if you wanted to meet him during training? He’s funny.  I think you’d like him.”

 

Baze nods, but before he can say anything Master Innay is looking them over disapprovingly and he turns back to his own page. After he has finished his writing he hands it in and looks cautiously at the writing on his arm again. Finally he picks the brush up once more and studies the careful lines. He traces them, once, twice. 

 

_ Are you mine? _

 

There is no answer and it’s not long until the class is filling out for physical training. Baze is at the end of the line and before he can leave Master Innay lays a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“I’m sorry Master, I didn’t mean to interrupt the class. I know-”he starts, but Master Innay raises their hand. 

 

“Little Brother, it’s fine. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last. I wanted to talk to you about your composition.”

 

Baze lowers his head. 

 

“I’m sorry Master, it could have been better.”

 

Mester Innay is shaking their head before Baze has even finished speaking. 

 

“Baze, this is one of the best compositions I’ve read from a student your age even disregarding your… origins. It seems you truly understand the first duan. Your analysis is insightful.”

 

Baze is confused. 

 

“Really?”

 

“Have you considered attempting the first duan? I’ve seen you in physical training and I think you have a real chance, if the Force wills it.”

 

Baze nearly floats through the day. Qiqi keeps sending him curious looks but between training, dinner and chores they don’t speak again that day. Baze nearly manages to forget the writing on his arm in the rush of training and review until late that night, when he finds himself alone in his room with a pot of ink and plenty of studying to do. He changes to his sleeping robes without even thinking, still focused on the holoscroll in front of him. Unfortunately his grace in physical training does not extend to distracted, one-handed changing and he gets his arm caught in his robes. He shifts, trying to dislodge it and finds himself engaged in a life or death battle against his own clothing.

 

Finally he lands on the hard stone floor with a whoosh of air, knocking the holoscroll of the desk on his way down. Baze only barely manages to soften the litany of curses to some quiet grumbling. His arm is bare now and also exceptionally painful. It isn’t broken, but he will have some truly spectacular bruises tomorrow. It’s only then he notices the new writing. 

 

_ You are too clever, friend. I am mortally wounded _ .

 

Baze breaks out smiling before he can stop himself. Then he starts chuckling outright. Here he is, naked on the cold stone floor laughing at his arm. It’s suddenly the funniest thing he can imagine. 

 

It passes quickly, before the dorm minder can come as him what exactly is so funny. He finds himself contemplating the writing and wondering what to say. Finally, he puts his brush on his wrist and writes carefully. 

 

_ You can’t die now. I haven’t met you yet. _

 

He stares at the characters as if he expects a reply to appear on his skin the moment it is written down. Then he shakes his head, realizing his folly. It’s already late and he doesn’t know where his soulmate even lives. He pushes wearily through the bedtime devotions and sinks into bed for too little sleep before the morning prayers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading so far! I have at least part of this written already, so there will be more updates coming soon(ish). In the mean time, I'm on Tumblr under the same name, so hmu with all your cool stuff.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though his soulmate is quiet, life continues. Baze levels up and makes a few friends.

The words go unanswered for days. Baze lets himself fall into study. The date for his attempt at the first duan is one week away and he buries himself in practice, chanting mantras as he hauls water and reviewing principles as he meditates. Each night he collapses into bed after devotions like a dead man and sleeps like he’ll never wake. 

He dreams of a skinny, golden boy in temple robes each night. They train together like two parts of a whole, moving together in perfect tempo. The boy beats Baze every night without speaking a word. There is so much Baze wants to say, questions that burn at his tongue but he does not speak either. After Baze is on the ground the boy steps forward and reaches a hand out. Baze moves to take it, turns to see the face of his mystery boy. Every morning, just as the hand seizes his, Baze wakes up. The beautiful boy is a memory fading in the cold, early dawn sunlight. The only thing left behind is the memory of a brilliant red scarf fluttering on the edge of his vision. 

When Baze passes the test in record time he is allowed a small excursion to the city at large. Officially it is under the pretense of servitude but Master Innay has given him and Qiqi a few hours of free rein. 

“Come on Baze, we’ll miss it!”

Qiqi is practically jumping up and down with excitement, pointing a notice on the small stall. 

“Qiqi, it’s a puppet show. We could likely hold a better show ourselves,” insists Baze, setting a few credits down for the woman behind the counter. She hands Baze his parcel and the two bow respectfully. Then, and only then, does Baze turn towards his friend. 

“Fine. We will go to the show.”

Qiqi smiles wide enough to light up the grey streets. Baze tucks the package into his robes and they head towards the small crowd already forming at the end of the road. 

They reach the puppet show without incident. A few pilgrims nod to them and a tall wookie almost knocks into Qiqi, but soon enough they’re situated quietly at the back of the crowd. The show begins. It is the tale of the Moon Princess, and Baze knows it as well as any Jedhan child. Qiqi has never been anywhere but the temple though, so everything is a wonder to him. He gasps when the ornate Moon Princess puppet makes her royal decrees and boos the evil Swords King. Baze manages to engross himself in the story. He almost misses the gentle tug and the sudden lightness of his pocket. He pokes Qiqi. 

“What- Baze?”

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Baze spins to follow the small figure sprinting away from him through the thick crowd. It takes all of his training to stay focused and to slip through the crowd. There are several times he loses the sound of small footsteps clattering on stone and pauses until the tugging in his gut pulls him in the right direction. The area around him gets slowly less crowded and slowly seedier, but Baze doesn’t even pause. He knows these streets. 

Finally the small being makes a wrong turn. They turn into an alley Baze knows has no exit and he catches the creature by the arm.

“I think you have something of mine,” he says. He can’t see much of the person he’s holding but the arm is too thin to be healthy. They’re wearing a brown hood pulled low over their face and he pulls it back carefully. 

“No!” says the little girl writhing in his grasp. “It’s mine!”

Baze softens his grip and crouches down. The little girl can’t be older than six cycles and she does not need another enemy. 

“Little sister, I do not want to hurt you. There is a better way.”

The girl looks away from him, still clutching the package to her chest. 

“My name is Baze. What is yours?”

She looks at him seriously, contemplating. Baze is not more than five cycles older than she is but he knows he is large. He smiles warmly and makes himself smaller. 

“I’m Essa,” she says after a long pause. 

“Are you hungry Essa? I know a good woman who sells baozi not far from here.”

She nods and Baze stands. 

“I need to find my friends again, but we can get food on the way.”

She hands him the package and slips a small, cold hand into his. When they reach Qiqi again the show is nearly over. 

“Baze?” he asks in disbelief.

“Do you want some baozi?” asks Baze, offering a small bag of steaming buns.Qiqi takes one in bemusement. 

“Who are these?” he asks, gesturing towards Essa and the small boy on Baze’s shoulders.

“It’s a long story.”

Behind them someone clears their throat and both Baze and Qiqi pale. 

“I should hope so,” says Master Innay. “I have the feeling I’m going to want to hear this one.”

“Well it started when-” 

Master Innay raises their hand. 

“Hold on. Are these two coming back to the temple?” 

Baze looks down at Essa, who nods. 

“They haven’t got anywhere else to go, Master. The fever got their mother last year and-”

“Okay,” says Master Innay. “Tell it on the road.”

The five of them leave and Baze begins the story of how he met Essa and eventually, Eni. When he finally finishes the story Qiqi is staring at him and Master Innay looks like they’re developing a headache. 

“To be clear,” they begin, “During your one free hour, you not only chased a thief into the underbelly of Jedha but also rescued two children from starving to death and extended the reach of our temple by offering aid to several more.”

“Yes,” says Baze. 

“Force give me strength,” sighs Master Innay.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even as everything comes crashing down, life continues.

The three children end up waiting on a bench outside the Abbott’s office. Eni is curled against Baze’s side, sound asleep while Essa sits on his other side, kicking her feet. 

 

“Will they let us stay?” she asks at last. 

 

“Yes.”

 

Baze does not let any doubt leak into his voice. When the temple had taken him in, he had found his own way up here. He had hoped only for some food and a bed for the night father everything else fell through, but they had offered him so much more. He could only hope they would do the same for these two. Essa falls silent again and then pokes his arm. 

 

“Big Brother, what’s this?”

 

He glances down. More writing, half hidden by his position. 

 

“That’s writing from my soulmate.”

 

She cocks her head.

 

“Soulmates?”

 

He nods. 

 

“A soulmate is someone made for you, someone you’re destined to spend forever with. They’re your perfect match.”

 

Essa smiles and opens her mouth to say something. Instead of speech though, she opens her mouth almost impossibly wide and yawns. 

 

“Rest, Little Sister. I’ll keep you two safe.”

 

He shifts a little to let her curl against him as well and clutches his package of brushes and ink tightly to himself as they sit and wait. 

 

Rumours swirl through the temple as much as prayers and no one in the temple attracts more whispers than Baze Malbus. He has few friends in the temple, and fewer enemies. The younglings and foundlings practically hang off of his arms at all hours of the day. No one knows what to make of the burly young man who’s just as comfortable spending hours in quiet contemplation as he is leading the unusually compliant children through basic zama-shiwo exercises. When he passes the second duan barely a year later the rumours only double. When confronted though, Baze will only shrug.

 

“People will always talk. What does it matter to me what they say?”

 

There is only one person whose opinion matters to Baze, and he doesn’t even know their name. They ‘speak’ as it were nearly every night, trading barbs and nighttime thoughts. When he is on watch, his soulmate sends him jokes bawdier than he ever heard on the streets. Slowly he discovers a few things about his soulmate: he lives in the outer provinces. He is indeed a he. He knows a good deal about the Force of Others, and most of all he has a wicked sense of humour. 

 

Baze estimates he is 13 cycles old when he passes the second duan. It is young, but far from the youngest initiate in the temple history. There is little celebration but he finds a certain quiet pride is new responsibilities and strives forward. For a short while everything is peaceful. He tends the temple gardens when they need the help and is kept as far from the kitchen as possible. The temple gets a new interior well, so he spends a few weeks digging and trying to remind himself that he will be grateful later when he is not hauling water in Jedha winters. Pilgrims come and go, carrying word of distant words. Qiqi daydreams about leaving, about seeing Lersen’s homeworld and touring the distant worlds of Coruscant and Naboo they’ve heard so much about. He’s a foundling, never known anywhere but the temple. Baze is willing to bet that the streets are roughly the same everywhere. He can’t imagine being anywhere besides right here, with the younglings to care for and the kyber singing to him faintly. Others hear it more, even work with it directly. Baze is glad to hear the singing at all. 

 

Everything changes when Essa gets sick.  

 

It’s only the summer fevers come early, Baze knows. That does not stop his worry as the fever rips through the younglings. The temple pays for the best doctors and pays for medications that will leave them a lean winter. The bug isn’t Jedhan though, likely carried by pilgrims from Coruscant and there is little they can do. Baze spends much of his time in a medsuit offering water and comfort to the sick. He takes the shifts no one else wants, spends nights standing vigil over fever warm patients. The whole planet, it seems, is sick. 

 

Baze has no energy. He follows his nightly devotions as a matter of habit and listens to the kyber song as he drifts off to sleep. He does not hear from his soulmate for days and he doesn’t have the energy to reach out. When his soulmate finally does though, the words chill his heart. 

 

_ I think I’m sick. _

 

He stares at the words uncomprehendingly for a beat before scrambling for his own brush. He still has no roommate so he doesn’t worry about disturbing anyone. One good thing about drafty stone walls: they don’t carry light or sound very well. 

 

_ Is it the fevers? _

 

The reply is slow, but sure. 

 

_ That’s what they say. No one wants to tell me.  _

 

Baze moves his brush to answer, but the ink keeps flowing on his arm. 

 

_ Sometimes I think the room is on fire, but it’s only me.  _

 

Baze swallows hard and writes with an unsteady hand. 

 

_ I’m here for you.  _

 

His soulmate writes slowly and the writing is nothing like his usual delicate characters. 

 

_ I think I love you. _

 

Baze wants to cry.

 

_ I love you too.  _

 

He waits but nothing happens. His soulmate is gone. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much is lost that cannot be regained. Even after the tragedy though, rumours swirl around the temple.

 

Baze tries to put the exchange out of his mind. He has his responsibilities and as the fever passes the Masters start to imply he should push for the third duan. Instead, he helps with the children. Essa gets better. Eni does not. 

 

“Why does the Force do this?” asks Essa. She is only barely recovered and nearly as skinny as the day Baze first met her. She should still be resting but instead she has decided to join Baze in training. She sits at the edge of his mat and watches as he runs through the forms for the third duan.

 

“I don’t know, Little Sister,” says Baze, stepping slowly through a series of jabs and strikes. “The Force is beyond the understanding of any one person.” 

 

Essa doesn’t look satisfied. 

 

“I think I’d like to know more about the Force,” she says. “Why does it take things we care about? Why can’t we be happy?”

 

Baze looks at her, breaking form for just a moment. 

 

“It is not the Force that makes us unhappy Essa. We are all imperfect beings.”

 

Essa cocks her head at im and she looks almost angry. 

 

“So it’s our fault Eni died?”

 

“Essa, no-”

 

“It’s our fault we feel sad?”

 

Baze sighs and sits down, facing the wan little girl.

 

“Essa, I don’t have all the answers. Sometimes bad things happen for no reason we can see and there’s nothing we can do about it. That doesn’t mean we can give up, or curse the Force. All it means is that we have to keep moving. The Force send things for a reason.” 

 

Essa nods. 

 

“Will you meditate with me?” asks Baze carefully. “Not now, perhaps, but it might help you.”

 

Essa bites her lip and thinks it over.

 

“Tomorrow morning?” she says. “I’m supposed to anyways, to bring healing.”

 

Baze nods and smiles. 

 

“Essa!” says the Sister in charge of minding the youngest initiates. “You silly thing, I was looking for you!”

 

Baze turns to Essa, who is doing her best to mimic innocence.

 

“Essa,” he scolds, “You told me your minder knew where you are!”

 

She squirms.

 

“Did I? I, uh-”

 

The minder interrupts her disapprovingly. 

 

“Brother Baze, thank you for keeping her safe.”

 

“Sister Li, I’m terribly sorry to steal your charge.”

 

She nods, appeased enough to forgive him.

 

“I was wondering,” Baze goes on, pressing his luck, “If I might borrow her again tomorrow for morning meditations?”

 

Sister Li sighs.

 

“I swear, Brother Baze, I will never understand you.”

 

Baze can only shrug.

 

“Fine,” she says. “Come along Essa, you’re missing lessons.”

 

As Essa leaves, Baze throws himself into his exercises more fully. He pushes himself hard for an hour, shifting from form to form so quickly he barely finishes one before launching into the next. Any sort of rational thought falls away and he loses himself in the Force. 

 

The meditation becomes a sort of tradition. It isn’t every day, of course. Baze has his tasks and even Essa is stepping into a few minor responsibilities alongside her studies. Whenever they can though, the two find themselves sharing a mat and a mantra. It is a simple mantra, the first that any initiate learns, but it is still powerful. 

 

“I am one with the Force, the Force is with me,” says Baze. 

 

“The Force is with me, I am one with the Force,” finishes Essa. 

 

And so the time passes. Jedha winters are bitingly cold, but Baze finds he likes the quiet. He is one of the few to volunteer as a winter sentry and even now he is just as likely to be found outside as in. He claimed the third duan as the weather began changing and he feels no pressure to attain the fourth. Now, all he feels is peace as he and Essa pass the simple mantra back and forth. She is strong in the Force and he knows the kyber sings more loudly to her than he could ever imagine. 

 

When they finish, they are both chilled.

 

“Can we have tea, Older Brother? Please?”

 

“I don’t know, Little Sister. Sister Li will be waiting for you.”

 

Essa grins impishly and Baze knows she’s won before she says a word.

 

“She wouldn’t like you to return me cold, would she? I’d hate for her to hear you let me catch a chill.”

 

“Fine,” Baze says at last. “One cup.”

 

“Thank you!” squeals Essa and Baze shakes his head. He already knows he’ll regret this.

 

Though the Guardians fill their days with work, even the most devout cannot go without water. In summer the small commissary is stocked with cool water and fresh fruit. In the winter chill, tea flows just as easily and there’s always something to eat. Nearly everyone in the temple can be found there at some point in the day. It’s full of gossip too, and Baze usually avoids it. Except, of course, that the small hand in his may as well be sculpted out of ice. It may have been Essa’s idea to meditate outside but Sister Li would only care that he had put her at risk.

 

When they get there, the room is quiet. A few initiates are scattered in small clumps or sitting meditatively alone throughout the handful of tables and one older sister is fixing her tea. Essa darts ahead and picks up a piece of bread studded with fruit and nuts for herself while Baze pours two cups of tea. It’s only when they’re moving to take their own table that Qiqi materializes. 

 

“Baze!”

 

Baze jerks, only barely managing not to spill tea over Essa. As it is he still splashes his hand and soaks the hem of his robe. 

 

“Qiqi! What are you doing here?”

 

He sets the tea down. Essa follows him curiously, cheeks bulging. Qiqi hovers apologetically.

 

“Well,” he starts, “I was getting tea with Lersen but he had to go to training.”

 

Baze blinks. 

 

“Qiqi, you have to go to training.”

 

Qiqi cocks his head like he doesn’t quite understand and Baze fights back an exasperated sigh. 

 

“You’re both in the second duan. In the second duan your training is set in stone- literally.”

 

Qiqi shakes his head.

 

“I know. I have to leave soon. I just had to tell you.”

 

Baze sits down, waiting wordlessly.

 

“You won’t believe this Brother- there’s a jedi coming to the temple.”

 

“A what?” shouts Essa, spraying the table with crumbs. 

 

“Essa,” scolds Baze. “Chew and swallow, please.”

 

She nods, chewing frantically. 

 

“Now Qiqi, what in the world makes you think a jedi would be coming here?”

 

Qiqi babbles for a few more minutes. After listening quietly to Qiqi’s story of a conversation overheard between two masters and an unusual reaction to his presence, he sighs. Essa is practically vibrating next to him. 

 

“Qiqi, Master Jaia got mad at you for snooping because you were snooping. Your jedi is nothing more than rumour and false hope.”

 

Qiqi shakes his head, already leaving.

 

“You’ll see Baze. The Force moves in mysterious way, and I’ve never been wrong before.”

 

Baze twists, but Qiqi is already early gone.

 

“You’ve absolutely been wrong before!” Baze shouts. He turns back towards Essa. “He’s absolutely been wrong before.”

 

She nods and takes a large swallow of tea. 

 

“So, when do you think the jedi will be here?” she asks. Baze can only sigh and sink more deeply into his seat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating on time? What's that?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time, it seems Qiqi may have been right. Essa fights and Baze speaks Basic.

The next few days pass without jedi, and then the next few weeks. Baze works steadily on the fourth duan and reaches it without ceremony. He gains responsibility and freedom in turn. The biggest responsibility that changes is the junior zama-shiwo class. Baze is no longer an assistant but instead, the leader of the class. They range in age from six to ten cycles, with a few newer initiates skewing a little older. 

 

It is in his fourth official lesson that something changes. The children are training inside today to combat the lingering chill in the air and their shouts fill the echoing stone room. Baze is walking among them and reviewing. 

 

“First form!” 

 

The group shifts as one to a ready stance. 

 

“Second form!”

 

As one, the children shift to a strong defensive base. 

 

“Third form!” 

 

Baze watches as the group shifts to an attack position, with weight forward and arms raised. 

 

“Corbin! Get those arms up. Riyan, you have to move faster.”

 

A flicker of movement catches his eye and Baze shifts his attention off the class. Master Ghiya is approaching and Baze feels a flicker of surprise. Master Ghiya is a master of the fifteenth duan and of a far higher level than he would expect to find here.

 

“At rest!” he shouts, and the children loosen their stances. 

 

“Master Ghiya,” he says to the man fast approaching. “It is good to see you.” 

 

Baze bows deeply and the master echoes him. 

 

“Thank you Brother Malbus.”

 

A flash of surprise flashes over Baze’s face. He hadn’t realized Master Ghiya knew of him at all, let alone his name. 

 

“Is this him?” asks a figure in a brown robe behind the master in Basic and Baze startles. 

 

“I’m terribly sorry,” he says respectfully in his own accented Basic, “I hadn’t seen you. I am Brother Baze Malbus.”

 

“I’ve heard good things about you,” says the man. “My name is Qui-Gon Jin. I was hoping my student and I could observe your class.”

 

The silent youth Baze hadn’t noticed does not move, but he is unsettling anyways. Baze is silent for a minute, examining the man in front of him. This Qui-Gon has long brown hair and deep brown eyes. His obe is long and it hangs in a way that doesn’t quite conceal the bulge at his hip. Finally Baze nods. 

 

“Of course,” he says before switching to Jedhan. “We’ll be glad to show them our training, right class?”  

 

“Yes Brother Baze,” choruses the class. 

 

The two men stand appraisingly in front of the class. Baze does his best to ignore what he is increasingly convinced are jedi behind him and lead the class. He sees Essa’s eyes widen, but he ignores her too. They have only so long and he wants to get as much done today as he can. 

 

“First form!” he shouts, and the class shifts accordingly. 

 

“Second form!” he shouts. “Keep active, even when you are still. Balance is not found in complacency.”

 

He lunges towards one girl and she flinches. 

 

“Siv, you must be ready.”

 

Baze lunges again and she raises her hand.

 

“Good block! Third form!”

 

The shift in energy is almost palpable. He jogs to the front of the room and grabs the training pad. He moves along the children one by one.

 

“Bren!” he says, and ze strikes. 

 

“Ha!”

 

“Ryssa!” he shouts and she lunges forward. 

 

“Ha,” she says. 

 

“Let me hear you! Again!”

 

“Ha!” she shouts, and he smiles. 

 

This is his class and he feels comfortable training them. Baze almost manages to forget the eyes staring down his back until Qui-Gon clears his throat. He doesn’t turn, but he does nod. 

 

“Alright everyone, find a partner. Practice the sparring drill we learned the other day. When one person gets five hits, change positions.”

 

Obligingly the class forms into pairs. When he turns, Qui-Gon is right behind him with the unnamed student not far behind. 

 

“You teach well,” says Qui-Gon. 

 

“They are a good class,” replies Baze. He does not say anything else. 

 

“I was wondering if I might try something,” starts Qui Gon.

 

“That depends,” says Baze. “What do you want to do?”

 

Qui-Gon jerks his chin towards the young man standing behind him. He can’t be more than a few years older than Baze himself, with short hair and a single long braid. 

 

“Obi-Wan has some experience is zama-shiwo. Perhaps the children might try to land a hit on him?”

 

Baze turn away from the conversation for half a beat. 

 

“Bren! Mind where you are placing your hits, please. Class, change partners!”

 

He turns back towards the jedi. The cocky look in his eye is almost a challenge and Baze smiles. 

 

“Certainly.”

 

“Alright, so-” starts Qui-Gon but Baze has already turned back towards the class. 

 

“Class!” 

 

There’s a brief scuffle while everyone pulls blows and turns to face him. 

 

“Our guests wish to test your training,” he says in Jedhan, gesturing towards the newcomers.

 

“Thank you, Brother Baze-” starts Qui-Gon in Basic. Baze ignores him, and continues. Only a handful of the students speak any Basic, and only Corbin has any fluency. 

 

“Anyone who can land a hit on my friend Obi Wan over here is off dish duty for a week. Line up! Everyone gets five strikes.”

 

The children scuffle into the lineup. Naren, the youngest is at the front and Essa, the oldest in the class, brings up the rear. She’s practically bouncing with anticipation. 

 

Baze watches as the line advances slowly. Obi Wan is a talented fighter, but he is not using zama-shiwo as the temple knows it. He moves like he’s holding the jedi’s famed lightsaber even as he fights unarmed children. It’s fascinating. He leaves an easy opening for the child, but when they move to strike he twists out of the way entirely. They’re nearly at the back of the line now and no one has yet landed a strike. As the line diminishes Baze coaxes the children into a seated square around the fighters to leave room for the sparring. Bren, second last, nearly hits but fumbles at the last moment and lands on the thick mat that forms the training room floor. 

 

Finally, Essa steps forward. She is small for her age and after Bren’s bulk Obi Wan must find her a welcome relief. Baze is looking forward to this. He sits cross legged beside the youngest initiates with a smirk as Essa takes first form. She closes her eyes and draws a deep breath. He can see her lips forming a familiar mantra. When she opens her eyes again there is something old and strong behind them. She shifts lightly on the balls of her feet. Behind her, Qui-Gon is leaning forward- he seems as eager as any of the children to see the coming fight. 

 

The next few minutes are legendary. Essa fights like a whirlwind. She skirts the obvious bait and leads around to his side. Obi Wan manages to dodge away, but he lands wrong and Essa knows it. She presses forward and as Obi Wan is still trying to find his balance she presses forward, using three of her strikes drives him back. Finally she draws back and gives him one final jab in the solar plexus. 

 

“Well done Essa!” he says and the rest of the class starts cheering too. Their voices echo around the stone walls, but Baze can’t help but notice the gleam in Qui-Gon’s eyes as he watches Essa.

 

He pulls the class together after a few more moments of celebration and runs them through a simple cooldown. Sister Li appears at some point to stand patiently in the corner of the room. She pretends to dislike Baze. In truth, they each hold a grudging respect for the other. It isn’t friendship, exactly, but it is something. As they are finishing their stretches he can see Qui-Gon murmuring something to her, nodding to Essa. 

 

Eventually, he can’t drag the stretching on any longer and he stands tall at the front of the class. 

 

“Thank you class,” he says formally.

 

“Thank you Brother Baze!” they chant in return.

“May the Force of Others be with you.”

 

“And with you,” the class finishes. 

 

They’re filling out of the class when Qui-Gon says something to Essa and she stops. The rest of the novices leave without glancing back. 

 

“Essa, is it?” asks Qui-Gon.

 

She nods silently.

 

“I was hoping I could talk to you.”

 

She cocks her head. Qui-Gon seems to be expecting some kind of a response. Baze pauses by the cupboard where the training pads are stored to watch the exchange. Essa still doesn’t say anything. 

 

“I’m from Coruscant, from the jedi temple.”

 

Essa scowls. To an outsider she might look angry but Baze knows she’s just trying to think. Finally, she speaks.

 

“You are… Jedi?”

 

Qui-Gon nods.

 

“I am Master Qui-Gon Jin and this is Obi Wan Kenobi.”

 

Essa does not reply and Baze finally takes pity on the hapless jedi. 

 

“She doesn’t speak Basic,” he says. Obi Wan jumps like he’d forgotten Baze was in the corner but Qui-Gon only turns, smiling serenely.

 

“Can she read?”

 

Baze nods. Essa had taken to reading far quicker than he had, though she still had no soulmarks. 

 

“Is there any way I could speak to her privately then?”

 

Baze hesitates. Essa is so small and he doesn’t want her to be hurt. Still, it isn’t exactly his choice to make. 

 

“Essa? This man wants to speak to you privately. He’s promised to use a translator but I won’t leave if you don’t want me to.” 

 

Essa nods. 

 

“I’m on guard duty later,” says Baze. “You know where to find me.”

 

She nods, once and Baze doesn’t look over his shoulder when he leaves. Not once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An important question- how have you guys been pronouncing Qiqi's name in your heads? It occurs to me that it's not so obvious as to how it's actually said versus how it's spelled.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations are had, and are not. People move on, and do not. No one answers

When Essa does climb the wall, she startles Baze. He’s standing sentry on their usual meditation spot and she is too quiet as she approaches. The sun is already setting, and it has been hours since the jedi had taken her aside. 

 

“You’ve been gone a long time, Little Sister.” he says. 

 

She smiles wanly and he realizes she’s clutching at a pot of ink. 

 

“The jedi want me to leave with them.”

 

“What? Essa-”

 

She shakes her head.

 

“I want to go, Big Brother. I think- it’s the right thing to do.”

 

“Essa, you’re not even ten cycles old. Can’t they come back?”

 

Essa shakes her head again and Baze can almost see her closing herself off. 

 

“It’s already almost too late. If I were anywhere else, or any older I’d have no chance. They’ve already had to turn people away.”

 

Baze kneels carefully in front of her. 

 

“Esa, if this is what you want then I’m here for you.”

 

Her eyes turn from closed to calculating and Baze sighs. 

 

“What do you want?”

 

She cocks her head like she has no idea what he could be talking about. 

 

“Can’t I come talk to my favourite Brother?”

 

Baze keeps looking at her expectantly and finally she shifts awkwardly to set her bundle on the wall. Without saying anything, she pushes her sleeve up to reveal the writing on her arm. The writing in Basic. 

 

“I need your help.”

 

Baze helps her to write a reply as best he can, and then they both wait. Baze walks sentry and Essa sits, staring expectantly at her arm. More time elapses and Baze sinks more firmly into his job. 

 

“Brother Baze,” starts Essa, “What happened to your soulmate?”

 

Baze freezes. 

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“When I first came to the temple, you told me about your soulmate. It felt like a dream, but I know it was real.”

 

“I-” starts Baze. He falters. “I haven’t heard from him. Not since the fevers.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Essa’s voice is very small. She’s still staring at her arm, trying to hide her shivers. 

 

“Little sister, you’ll freeze if you stay out here. The reply will come when it comes.”

 

There’s a moment of silence. Baze turns from his view of the countryside to look at Essa.

 

“I’m going to miss you, Big Brother.”

 

“You’re leaving Essa, but we will not leave you. They’ll have to drag me away from the com for mealtimes.”

 

Essa pauses, like there’s more she wants to say. Instead of speaking though, she rushes forward and embraces Baze tightly. He hugs her back and pretends he doesn’t feel her shoulders shaking. She does him the same courtesy. They hold each other like the world is ending and only break apart when Sister Li clears her throat delicately.

 

“Are you packed, Essa? You’re leaving tomorrow, according to Master Jin.”

 

Essa nods, once. 

 

“He’s speaking in the temple tonight,” she adds. “If you’re interested Baze, several people have offered to take your shift.”

 

Baze cannot hide his surprise, both at Essa’s early departure and the welcome from the temple. His brain stalls. 

 

“Even in the cold?” he asks lamely. Sister Li only nods. 

 

“You’re one of our most devout, Brother Baze. There are not many who would hold you back.”

 

Baze hesitates for only a moment before shaking his head. He doesn’t think he could bear hearing about the will of the Force tonight. 

 

“I will guard,” he says. “Brother Qiqi will tell me all about it tomorrow, whether I’m there tonight or not.”

 

Essa giggles, bright and happy. Without warning, she darts forward for one last hug and darts backwards just as quickly. Then she and Sister Li are leaving just as quickly and as quietly as they had first arrived. Baze is left alone, to watch the road and stare at the lights of NiJedha beneath him. The sun is nearly gone, and the lights in the Holy City are coming on one after another, as store owners flip switches and hotels advertise any room they had left in hopes of drawing in any pilgrims foolish enough to still be on the streets after the temple gates were closed. 

 

Baze loses track of time on the wall. Though some guards bring holopads or other ways to pass the time on patrol, he likes the quiet. 

 

“You should be happy for her,” an unfamiliar voice says in Basic. 

 

Baze whirls without a second thought and only just manages to pull his strike when he sees the younger Jedi. They face each other warily for a moment. Slowly, the boy- Obi Wan?- pulls his hand away from his blade. Baze says nothing, only turning back to his watch. 

 

“There are others,” says Obi Wan, suddenly.

 

“Here?” asks Baze, without turning.

 

“All across the galaxy, especially on Jedha. We had one boy, just a few cycles too old. He was promising, but after the fevers came…”

 

Baze only shrugs. 

 

“All is as the Force wills it.”

 

Obi Wan gives him a curious look and leans against the wall beside him. They spend a moment staring into the darkness until finally, Obi Wan speaks.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

Baze sighs a deep and rumbling sigh. 

 

“A sentry turret cannot tell friend from foe. If-”

 

“No,” interrupts Obi Wan, “Why are you here at the temple I mean? You aren’t very strong in the force, and even with your devotion you’ll eventually reach a point where you simply cannot advance any further.”

 

He falls silent when Baze looks over at him. He looks embarrassed, like he realizes his rudeness. After another second, something else becomes clear as well. 

 

“Let me guess,” he says. “The initiates introduced you to Master Loren’s stash.”

 

Obi Wan looks abashed as he nods. 

 

“It would be rude to refuse traditional blessings,” he said. Now that Baze was both listening and used to the language, Obi Wan’s slurring was clear. 

 

“You should return to your quarters,” said Baze gently. “You’ll be in for a rough morning tomorrow.”

 

There’s a pause.

 

“I don’t know where they are,” said Obi Wan morosely. “It’s too loud in the temple and I don’t know where Qui Gon went.” 

 

Baze sighs. 

 

“I’m off-” he looks up- “soon. I’ll drop you off at the guest quarters then.”

 

Obi Wan nods and leans against the wall. It’s high enough, and with enough of a railing that Baze isn’t worried about him falling, though the faintly shimmering forcefield doesn’t hurt either. The drunk jedi looks content to stare down at the lights below while the two sit in silence. After a while, he sinks to the ground and leans his back against the wall. Finally, much to his own surprise, it is Baze who breaks the silence. 

 

“You wanted to know why I am here? Why I stay when there is a point when I will no longer be able to strengthen my connection to the Force?”

 

Obi Wan nods, enraptured. 

 

“I’m not here for what will happen. I am here for what was and for what is. When I had nothing, the Temple of the Whills helped me. Now I can help others, if the Force of Others is with me. We are nothing alone, and I know that better than most.”

 

Obi Wan snuffles. He’s already asleep against the cold stone wall. Baze chuckles despite himself. When Sister Danis looks at him with questions in her eyes when he comes to relieve him, he can only shrug. He carries Obi Wan over his shoulder down the long flight of stone stairs and through the silent halls. When he drops the boy gently in bed his arm flops forward. Baze can see that it’s covered in fading, unanswered messages. 

 

_ Are you there?  _

 

_ Please answer me.  _

 

_ Please.  _

 

He looks away before he can see any more, leaving the master and the student to rest for the journey ahead. 


	8. Chapter 8

Baze rises early for the morning prayer despite his vigil the night before. He feels like bantha shit. Master Innay has told him before that he does not need to come, that the night watch is excused from the morning prayers. In truth Baze finds he likes the peace. Not many bother to arrive at all, but Baze is nearly always among them.

The kyber shines in the sunlight above the congregation. Those strong in the Force say that it sings to them. Baze likes to think that some days, when the cold Jedha sun shines and the world is sparkling, he can hear the sound of distant music. Unfortunately, rising early leaves him taskless after the service and it is not long before Qiqi has co-opted him into the garden. The Kyber Gardens of the temple are famous for their beauty and their connection to the Force. People do not often think of who keeps the garden so beautiful. 

 

“Master Kionni says that if I keep advancing, I may someday be in charge of the gardens completely,” confides Qiqi. “For now, I’m in charge of the trees, and he will hang the crystals before the pilgrims come.”

 

“The garden is beautiful,” says Baze, purposefully burying the lead. Meanwhile, Qiqi is rummaging around in the garden shed. After a moment, he emerges with a large pair of gloves and a rough bag. He hands them to Baze before plunging back in. Final, he emerges with a disturbingly large set of garden shears. 

 

“-don’t have long until the garden opens and you have to leave. Start pulling.”

 

Baze obliges. There are a few other Guardians in the garden, but they’re far enough away not to be bothered. Qiqi looks like he’s going to burst when they’re finally out of earshot. 

 

“I can’t believe you missed the jedi yesterday!”

 

“Believe me,” says Baze with a yank, “I did not miss him.”

 

Qiqi sighs. 

 

“I know you miss Essa, but Master Qui Gon’s teachings were amazing. The way he talked about the Force of others… I hope someday I can be that strong in the Force.”

 

Baze grunts noncommittally and continues pulling weeds. 

 

“You should have heard him, Baze. The way he talked about this place, and the rest of Jedha- he told this one story, about a blind acolyte. Apparently, he’s been advancing through the ranks since he was a child, even after he lost his sight. He’s one of the strongest Force users Master Qui-Gon had ever met, and…”

 

Baze lets Qiqi’s words wash over him like so much rain. He nods when he should, and interjects the occasional grunts to demonstrate interest. He focuses carefully on his small patch of flowers. 

 

“-Baze? Are you listening?”

 

“Yes, Qiqi. I hear you.”

 

Qiqi huffs dramatically. 

 

“I said, apparently he’s coming here sometime before the next snows fall. The temple that he’s at is sending him here to pursue the sixth duan.”

 

“And you said he’s thirteen?”

 

Qiqi’s clippers falter as he pauses to look at Baze.

 

“What?” says Baze. “I pay attention.”

 

Qiqi opens his mouth as the temple bells ring. He closes it again. 

 

“You have to go,” he says at last. “I have to let the pilgrims in.”

 

Baze nods, and they agree to meet in the commissary before physical training that day. Qiqi is still below Baze in level, but all the acolytes from fourth to seventh level have a common training block. 

 

“May the force of others be with you,” says Baze before heading off to his lessons. The fifth duan focuses on understanding the past to shape the future, and Baze finds himself pulled from his usual outdoor days. In the fourth duan, Qiqi’s level, he had been obligated to work outdoors and connect with the Force through his labour. He much prefered that to the long, stifling hours spent in the classroom. 

 

Today though, it is not nearly so dull. Master Kier cannot control the class- everyone is talking about the jedi. Baze sits quietly, writing his treatise on Jedha’s origins, and the history of the temple. He was never one for conversation.

 

“That Essa girl? Y’know, Baze knew her,” says one classmate. 

 

“Wait, really?” asks another. 

 

“He runs the junior zama-shiwo class,” confirms the first. “He trained her.” 

 

Baze does not look up. His eyes sting, and it is only when he feels he first tear fall that he realizes he’s crying.

 

The rest of the class passes in a blur. Indeed, much of the next few days passes in a blur. Pilgrims come and go. A few from Baze’s class are preparing for the first duan and he helps as best he could. He waits, even though he doesn’t know quite what he’s waiting for. 

 

He calls the Jedi Temple on Coruscant on the comms once, hoping to hear from Essa. The voice on the other end informs him dispassionately that jedi are not allowed any external connections, but that she had arrived just fine. Then they hang up, leaving Baze alone with his thoughts. They are not pleasant thoughts. 

 

After his disastrous call, Baze does the only thing he can: he keeps on going. Qiqi shows him a few simple things in the garden. Baze trounces Qiqi in training, armed and unarmed, while Lersen takes holo-vids. Even in the quiet banality, something is missing. Through his meditations, he feels pulled towards something he can never quite grasp. In prayer he finds his attention drifting and more than once he shakes away cobwebs only to find himself staring at his empty wrist. With a sinking stomach Baze realizes that he knows what’s missing, and it isn’t someone he will ever- can ever- meet. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baze has a busy life, even without what used to give it the most meaning. He can't handle further responsibilities right now. This one, though? Helping the new acolytes? It has a strong appeal to it.

Unlike most major events, Qiqi is not the one who tells Baze when the blind stranger is set to arrive. It isn’t even Lersen speaking on his behalf. Master Innay corners him on his way to the commissary after junior training. They know his schedule well, apparently: this is the only free time he has all day. They’ve got a full spread set out for tea, so Baze waits for them to sit down before joining them on the floor. Has he done something wrong? Is it Essa? The Master blesses the food briefly, and then speaks. 

“Don’t worry Little Brother, you aren’t in trouble.”

Baze nods gratefully and consciously releases the tension in his body. He picks up the cup of fragrant tea Master Innay sets in front of him, waiting for them to   
explain why he is needed. The Master studies him curiously, leaving their tea untouched. 

“Aren’t you curious?” Master Innay asks at last as Baze sets his cup down. Baze shrugs. 

“I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have a reason.” 

Master Innay smiles unexpectedly. 

“That is true. Force, Baze, when did you get so wise?”

They look at him tenderly. Baze shrugs again and Master Innay raises a finger reproachfully. 

“You know Elder Zhong would have your head for shrugging at a master, little brother.” 

Baze stares and then, slowly and deliberately shrugs again. Master Innay chuckles lightly, and Baze realizes suddenly how young they are. He knew already that they’re one of the youngest masters, but he hadn’t realized what that really meant. They carried so much responsibility, and yet they couldn’t have been more than fifteen standard cycles older than Baze himself. The moment passes as they compose themselves with a sip of tea. 

“Now, the matter at hand. A brief inquiry- do you still have your own room?”

Baze furrows his brow. What does that have to do with anything? 

“I do. It was decided that since my schedule is so irregular it wasn’t worth deliberately filling the spot unless it was absolutely needed.”

Master Innay nods. 

“And how is the junior zama-shiwo class doing? In their lessons, I’ve noticed that Bren is much improved. Are you finding similar?”

Baze blinks.

“Master Innay, why did you want to speak to me?”

They take another sip of tea. 

“In truth brother, I need your help. There’s a group of new acolytes coming to the temple, from one of the temples in the countryside. You might have heard of one actually- the jedi spoke of him?”

Baze shakes his head. 

“I didn’t listen to the jedi. I had guard duty that night.”

Their face falls.

“Baze, we could have-”

“Kept someone else from listening?” Baze interrupts. “Besides, Qiqi told me about the talk three times over anyways.”

Master Innay looks taken aback by the way he suddenly lashed out. Baze takes a deep breath. This isn’t about Essa. 

“I am sorry, Master Innay. That was uncalled for.”

They incline their head slightly, and continue. 

“These aren’t novices, so you don’t need to make room in your class. In truth, there’s a handful of new students, a few Guardians returning from a pilgrimage   
and the student I mentioned earlier. He’s blind, and will require additional guidance as he learns this temple.”

Baze moves to make an objection: he barely has time to sleep with his schedule the way it is. Master Innay raises a hand to silence him. 

“Don’t worry, little brother. I know your schedule is already overbooked. I’ve actually asked Brother Qiqi to guide him as his final act of servitude.”

Baze nods, understanding dawning. 

“You want me to make sure Qiqi doesn’t overwhelm him.”

Master Innay nods a little sheepishly. 

“I know it’s a big favour,” they say, “but it would be a tremendous kindness.”

Baze furrows his brow, trying to rearrange his schedule enough to make time for this new responsibility. Master Innay seems to read his mind as they continue. 

“The Elders recognize that this is not your only responsibility, so they’ve offered an exchange. If you’re willing to help you would be relieved of your duty to help the preparations for the pilgrims’ morning and evening prayers.” 

Baze almost dropped his teacup.

“But that’s….”

“A tremendous responsibility of yours, I know, as well as a requirement of the fifth duan. In truth though, helping with Chirrut isn’t your only task. He’s only one of the new initiates. A few novices of higher levels are coming, as well as all the children the outpost has been fostering. Sister Li will help with the children, of course, but I was hoping you would help them acclimate. Many of the novices have been here as guests, but they’ll need help too.”

Master Innay sets their tea cup down, and Baze knows they’re waiting for him to react. He takes another sip, stoically stalling.   
\  
“How many children?” he asks, finally. Master Innay smiles broadly, and he can’t quite keep himself from smiling back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back from the unannounced hiatus. Sorry for the silence, I signed up for many holiday exchanges. But we're back to semi regular updates for now, however long it lasts. I'm on Tumblr under the same name if you want to come yell about the boys, or just say hi. Let me know what you think about this chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An arrival at last. Things are changing, and what was once though lost may yet be found again.

As the arrival of the newcomers dawns, Baze finds himself with more and more spare time. His night watches have been shifted to evening, so that he will be rested. His daytime responsibilities have shrunk slowly but surely. He finds himself assisting wherever he can just to keep sane. Even Qiqi, usually a time drain, has shifted his focus. He’s been counting stairs, measuring courtyards and learning the temple better than even the masters know it. 

 

They receive regular reports and transmissions from the group. They’re only days away, but it feels like months. The junior class is excited to make new friends and to have a chance to spar with someone new. Even the older initiates find themselves swept up in the buzz. Baze tries to work as best he can, knowing opportunities will be sparse once he has new initiates to manage. It isn’t as effective as he’d like. The cobwebs are growing worse, and he can scarcely focus at all.

 

Three days later, the weary travellers arrive an hour before supper. Most of the temple is there to welcome them, but the crowd disperses quickly after the initial greetings. 

 

Baze watches the group with a keen eye. He feels invigorated. The group looks the opposite. Though they’d had transport through the desert, they had walked through much of Jedha City. Qiqi approaches the back of the group. Baze only glimpses a skinny boy before his new charges swarm him. Sister Li couldn’t stay to greet the group, so he finds himself with four older initiates and five younglings staring at him expectantly. 

 

Ten minutes later, they’re far more focused on sweet buns and tea than anything Baze has to say. Qiqi and his mysterious charge are nowhere to be seen, but that’s fine with Baze. He has enough responsibilities. They can catch up over supper. 

 

The afternoon disappears all too quickly as he drops the youngest five off with Sister Li, giving the older students a half cred tour in the process. They gaze starry eyed at the temple so different from their original home. There’s barely enough time for a quick trip to the ‘freshers before supper. The initiates seem glad for the break, and Baze is too. They’re a lively bunch for certain.

 

Baze darts back to his room while the initiates freshen up with vague ideas of changing, maybe grabbing something to work on for his guard shift later that night. It’s important to keep focus, but he also has a composition due on the uses of kyber for one of his classes that’s gone too long neglected. It isn’t hard to throw together a bag with everything he needs. It’s harder to drag his eyes away from his wrist. The characters are still there, in plain and simple ink. They’re not the only character there any longer. The writing is sloppy, almost childish, and it looks nothing like the careful writing he had seen before. Baze is still elated. 

 

_ Hello _

 

Baze’s hand is shaking too much to write a reply. He takes a deep breath, and calms himself. 

 

“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.”

 

When his hand is shaking less, Baze writes his reply. 

 

_ I missed you. I thought you were dead. _

 

His soulmate says nothing at all. Baze glances at the time, and curses. He barely has time to grab his bag before crossing the temple as quickly as he can without breaking into a full run. 

 

Qiqi waves at him as he passes by, but Baze barely has time for even such a brief greeting. By the time he collects his small group and arrives, there’s scarcely room at the table for them all. Baze finds himself pushed to the end of the table, though it is still an honourable seat, and eats his dinner quickly in the dining hall’s enforced silence. 

 

The next few days are almost comical. He meets Qiqi after several near misses during their only shared free period. Technically, they have physical training together as well, but even Qiqi doesn’t dare disobey Master Wrenning. Master Wrenning is not shy with discipline, and they have both run enough laps for a lifetime. 

 

“So, how’s your group doing?” Asks Qiqi. Baze pauses to set his tea down. The commissary was quiet for now, so he was in no rush. 

 

“They’re adjusting. It will take time for them to feel at home here.”

 

Qiqi nods expectantly. Baze takes another sip of tea and fights the desire to smirk. His friend looks like he’s going to burst if Baze doesn’t ask, so Baze sits in silence. After a moment, he finally gives in.

 

“So, how have things been for you and… what did you say his name was?”

 

Baze knew that he should know this, but Qiqi talked a good deal about so many different things that even his closest friend sometimes lost track. 

 

“Chirrut’s his name, Chirrut Imwe. He’s doing really well. Did you know that the whole counting stairs thing is actually a myth? Blind people don’t really do that. In fact…”

 

Qiqi goes on, but Baze is stuck on something he said before. So, Chirrut is the force sensitive the jedi had mentioned. Something about the name pulls at Baze, but he can’t think of what, so he shifts his attention back to Qiqi. 

 

“I’ve offered to set him up in your group for some of the training exercises, or join one of your tours, but he’s refused so far. I wonder why, though. If I had to travel across half the planet to do to a new temple I’d want to be as close as possible to the people I know, wouldn’t you?”

 

Baze shrugs.

 

“Perhaps. All his life, though, people have been telling Chirrut that he’s special. The Jedi themselves have said that he is worthy to be among them. Could it be that’s the reason why he did not want to be among the others? If he believes himself greater, I can understand why he would not join them.”

 

Qiqi blinks and sets down his tea. He looks surprised. Even Baze’s best friend forgets that his friend is not always taciturn. He supposes it serves him right for holding his silence. 

 

“Maybe?” Hazards Qiqi at last. “It could be possible, but I don’t think so. Chirrut is friendly to everyone, but he’s different when it’s just us. He reminds me of you, actually.”

 

Baze snorts. 

 

“High praise, coming from you. Should I tell Lersen he has competition?”

 

Qiqi laughs, and the conversation changes to lighter topics. If Qiqi is quick to change the subject away from soulmates, Baze can understand. His friend had been the one to comfort him after the apparent death of his own, after all. Baze realizes with a start that he should tell Qiqi what’s happened with his soulmate. The temple bell rings for afternoon prayers before he has a chance, and Baze goes off to prayers with the words unspoken. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a longer chapter to make up for abandoning you all. I'm deeply sorry to anyone who thought they would see Chirrut- but not really.


End file.
